“Mori, as in to conquer,” she murmurs in my ear as she runs her hand through my messy, wind-blown hair. I grin and let my head fall against hers. I almost miss her taunting me with “Mori, as in to die,” but I find this much more endearing that she’s relented to what Mori means to me. My chest warms. “Morphine, as in a goddess of dreams,”
